Christmas Cards
by Cinerari
Summary: A few little Christmas/wintery drabbles, featuring SPCH, CWZ, SSX, and SSM.
1. Compromise (CWZ)

**So I may have completely forgotten to upload all of these here as they were completed, but um, I guess I'll just put them all up at once. There are really just six in all. Merry Christmas! We'll call this my gift to all of you.**

**This one was for liitlegoldfish, who requested "Christmas Party preparations aboard the Karyū! How would Warrius and Marina react to a gorgeously kitschy decorated bridge?!"**

* * *

"This ship is your workplace," Marina lectured, her arms folded over her chest. "It is not a place for celebrating holidays. You can do that on your off time." She didn't expect an eager response to the idea, but she didn't expect the chorus of agitated groans from the men either.

"She's worse than the captain," Rai sighed.

"You were supposed to be on our side," Ishikura added, pouting.

Unabara smiled easily. Then younger men on the ship were all so thick-headed. "I don't know where you all got the idea that the first officer of all people would let you take some time off, but you should really rethink your attack plan."

Marina watched them all grumble, confusion written across her face. "The captain…doesn't let them celebrate Christmas either?" She was stunned but genuinely impressed. He actually made them follow sensible rules. Maybe there was hope for him yet.

"He hates all holidays," the old man explained since the rest of the men had taken to ignoring her. "He's the biggest grouch about them you've ever seen. Well, unless we get him drunk enough."

Oh, so he wasn't really trying to follow the rules then, Marina realized. He was just being bitter. "I'm with him on this one anyway," she sighed. "It would be too much of a distraction, and if everyone got drunk off eggnog, then what would we do if we were attacked?"

Again she was stunned to silence, this time by a chorus of laughs. "You think we've never beat someone back while drunk?" Rai grinned.

Unabara shrugged. "It's true. We actually fight better drunk in some cases."

"Not the kid though," Rai added, much to the irritation of Ishikura. "But the captain, boy, you should see him. I'll bet he could out think Harlock a lot easier with a good number of drinks in him."

"I think you're all imagining this, because your drunk minds convince you you're being intelligent when you're really not" Marina rebutted skeptically. "You can exchange gifts on the date if that's what you'd like, and that should be plenty of celebration for the holiday."

Standing, she straightened her shirt and headed for the door. If they decided to try something ridiculous behind her back, she would at least be able to handle it with the backing of her captain for once. On the subject of her captain, he owed her a few dozen forms with his signature of approval. Most importantly was the proposition for the new punishment that she would apply every time one of the men decided to look down on her because of her sex.

When the door closed behind her, the boys on the bridge all exchanged the same expectant glance. "What sort of decorations do we have?" Grenadier asked with a smirk.

"I have some hidden away," the old man offered. "But I'm not getting involved in any of this, so don't come crying to me if you get punished for it. The captain might be a good sport, but I won't guarantee that he'll be able to talk her down if she's mad."

Marina discovered that her captain had surprisingly done his work. All the forms had been signed and dated appropriately and even were placed in an organized file in the system she'd created on the tablet. Things were starting to look up.

He was seated at his desk, his chin in his palm as he dozed off, his elbow holding him up. She cleared her throat to wake him, causing his eyelids to open sluggishly as he gave a light sigh. "Yes?"

"The men were discussing celebrating Christmas," she began, but he spoke before she could continue.

"You told them no, right?"

"I did."

He nodded slowly, leaning back in his chair. He would have thrown his feet up on the desk, but she would have gotten onto him, so he'd just wait until she left.

"I was just surprised that you didn't care for the idea," she said when she realized he wasn't going to say anything.

"Things get out of hand," he frowned. "And their choice of presents are…" embarrassing. Purposefully embarrassing. And they always spiked the drinks, which was fine until Ishikura didn't notice. The decorations had a habit of winding up on the floor, and as if the cleanup wasn't enough, Zero had managed to step on one of the glass ornaments the previous year, even though he'd ordered them not to put up anything then too. Not to mention all the horrible memories he always managed to relive. Then he'd drink until he was too wasted to do anything but pass out, only to wake up with a splitting headache in the strangest places.

So they absolutely did _not _celebrate holidays extravagantly.

Except they did.

"You can tell them 'no' all you want," he halfheartedly grumbled. "It doesn't matter. They're going to do as they please. Sometimes I figure they make things as ridiculous as possible just to spite me."

"We'll see about that," Marina huffed, her hands on her hips. It was about time those boys learned to listen.

Zero attempted a light smile. "But, when they do celebrate, there's usually lots of food, so it's not all bad."

Lots of food for them maybe, but she wasn't going to be able to eat it. "Was it always like this though?" she questioned suddenly. "Have you had this rule for as long as you've been a captain?"

He took the mug of coffee sitting beside him and eyed her calmly over the rim of the glass as he sipped it. He didn't mind being asked. He owed a lot to her, especially a few answers about his past. "If you're asking," he replied as he set the mug down, "you already know the answer. But as much as I complain to them, they do it so everyone can enjoy something for a day. We might as well give in."

She immediately attempted an argument, stating all the reasons why it was a terrible idea. He agreed with her, of course, but his eyes glazed over as she talked, and he drank his coffee while attempting to listen. Eventually, he gave up, standing and walking to the door. She was about to bark at him for ignoring her, when he gently took hold of her arm and led her out.

"What's going on?" she demanded.

His caffeine was just starting to kick in, and he finally smiled genuinely. "Just come with me. We'll see how much they've done."

"What? They better not have done anything!"

Zero thought they'd outdone themselves. He never did know where all the decorations came from, but they sure looked nice on the bridge, at least while he wasn't stepping on them. Gold stands of tinsel lined the walls, and unnecessary light strands were twirled around them as though the bridge didn't glow enough with blinking lights already. There were ribbons, wreaths and holly and whatever else they could put up on the consoles and walls. And all the men sat at their stations as though nothing had changed.

Marina fumed, her cheeks reddening. A lecture was quickly calculated in her mind along with the punishments they would all receive. It wasn't about the decorations. She liked Christmas, but she didn't like the crew directly disobeying orders. They'd be cleaning the outside of the ship until-

She was snapped out of her rage as Zero placed a hand atop her head, drawing her attention to his warm smile. "We lost," he said "We were outvoted. Now don't be a sore loser."

He walked to his chair and took his seat, plucking the candy cane from his console and sticking the end in his mouth.

"Well it does…look nice," Marina offered. The men cheered in victory, one of them throwing a Santa hat at their captain. He lazily flicked off his cap and tugged the floppy hat on.

Marina was so lost. He seemed so accepting of the whole thing. Why couldn't he at least bother to get onto them? They weren't going to stop if he didn't even try.

"It's tradition," Unabara explained as he walked up to her to hand her a green candy cane. "I'm not sure how it became tradition, but we always have to have the bridge decorated for him to make him mad."

"He doesn't look mad," the first officer frowned.

"Of course he's not. That's the point."

"I don't get it."

"The point is to make him happy," the old man smiled, "while under the guise of trying to make him mad. He really was mad the first year, but he lightens up. The alcohol helps."

"Okay!" Rai yelled. "Time to make bets on where the captain's gonna show up after the party."

"What?" Marina questioned.

"For when I pass out drunk," Zero snorted. "Last year I woke up laying on one of the rafters above the engine."

"Don't ask how," Unabara laughed.

Marina decided it was best not to think about the subject entirely. She'd make sure to keep the alcohol away from him. "Well, if we're going to have all this up, are we going to bother with a tree?" she questioned.

The room went deathly quiet as all the men glanced around nervously. Zero's expression darkened momentarily as he shattered the silence by snapping the end of his candy cane off between his teeth. "We don't set up trees that could obviously fall over and pose a hazard during a fight, do we boys?"

"No, sir," they all mumbled nervously. Marina didn't need to ask for clarification this time.

"Now, are you going to play some music or what?" the captain smiled.

Marina went to stand by him as the cold spell broke, and the ditzy tunes started up along with the happy chatter of the men. "You know," she said, looking around, "it does feel warmer in here with all this…stuff around."

"Mm-hm, you should get yourself a Christmas bow or something."

"Please," she chuckled. "Just because you're okay with looking like an idiot, doesn't mean I'm going to."

He twirled the candy cane around his tongue, looking up at her innocently as though he didn't know what she could be talking about. She reached down and flicked the puffball end of his Santa hat as a lighter, more musical song started up through the bridge speakers.

"So how embarrassed would you be to dance with me?" he hummed, holding out a hand.

"Incredibly embarrassed, Captain." She placed her hand in his. "But this whole place is embarrassing, so I'll just have to try to live it down. You're still all in trouble too."

"But after the party, right?"

"Yes, alright, after the party."

* * *

**In the next fic, Nazca and Tochiro throw up some decorations. I'm being literal. I'm so funny.**


	2. Circuit (SSM)

**I did this one for myself because I think Nazca and Tochiro make cute friends and Tochiro would be the type to put up ridiculous decorations. These boys are such nerds.**

* * *

Without much to do on a normal day aboard the Deathshadow, Nazca usually found himself in Tochiro's workshop. He'd carved out a little seat for himself among the piles of junk, an old wooden chest with more scraps inside of it. For hours he could just sit there and watch the man work. It was the only time the loudmouth brat was known to be able to keep quiet and still. Instead of asking a lot of questions, he just watched Tochiro tinker with whatever. He was mesmerized by the way the man could make just about anything work with just the right adjustments.

But when it came to the odd strand of lights hanging from a lengthy wire, Nazca was stumped. It obviously worked just fine. All of the blinking, colorful bulbs came on when Tochiro checked. Nazca just wasn't sure what purpose they served. The lights were pretty and all, but they certainly didn't seem useful in any way.

Tochiro tugged at the strand, one end in his hand, and Nazca watched with a smile as the man began to spin, allowing the cord to wrap around himself as it was drawn from one of the many boxes stacked in the room. This one was labeled "X-mas stuff" in an uneven scrawl that could only be the engineer's handwriting.

"Mr. Tochiro?" Nazca called as the man continued his odd dance to pull all the lights out.

"Mm-hm?" He was starting to get a little dizzy.

"What's X mass?"

The short man stopped in surprise, his vision tilting and swaying momentarily. "You know, X-mas. It's a shorter way to say Christmas since I couldn't fit it on the box."

Nazca placed his elbows on his knees and cradled his chin in his hands, frowning in confusion. "Christmas…it sounds familiar."

"Wha-? It's a holiday!" Tochiro cried. "The twenty-fifth of December! You wrap presents and give them to people!"

"Sort of like Valentines?"

"Sort of," Tochiro shrugged as he returned to spinning, the lights squeezing against his stomach. "Except you give presents to everyone, and you put up a tree."

"You put one…up?"

"Yeah, you put one up in your house or your ship – a fir tree – and you decorate it with ornaments and lights. Not these lights though. These are the big ones. They go around the outside of the ship for decoration."

Nazca opened his mouth a few times, closing it as he retracted each thought. He was trying his best to make sense of it. Really, he was. Finally, he had to give up. "So you take the tree from outside and put it inside?"

"Yep."

"And you take the lights from inside and put them outside."

"Uh…" Tochiro blinked a few times. "Yeah, that's right."

"That's just about the stupidest thing I've ever heard."

Tochiro couldn't help but laugh. "It's just for fun, kid. No need to take it all so seriously. You can help me with the lights if you want. I need to get them on before we leave this planet."

Always eager to assist with mechanics, Nazca hopped from his perch and went to pull on the remaining string of lights, wrapping them around his arm. "Won't these be destroyed when we leave the atmosphere though?"

"Nah, they're specially made, by me of course," he grinned proudly. Nazca started to glance over one to see why it was special, but the engineer urged him to get the rest of the line. It was absurdly long, Nazca thought. But the ship was also huge, so maybe that made sense. This was going to take forever.

"This is just the first roll," Tochiro said as they carried the bundles of lights out into the hall. "But don't worry. They're really easy to put on."

"I sure hope so," the scamp grumbled.

"Anyway, about Christmas. You put the presents you get for people under the Christmas tree, wrapped in pretty decorative paper. They're fun to open that way. And you can get presents for anyone you feel like. The presents can be whatever, but you have to keep the gift a secret so they can be surprised when they open it. I already got you a present, you know."

"W-what?" Nazca couldn't even remember the last time he'd gotten a gift from someone. His parents had given him things, but that had been a long time ago. He could feel his pulse speed up at the thought of something for him. Mr. Tochiro had gotten him a gift. Why? Sure, there was the holiday, but Tochiro said you only had to give presents if you felt like it.

"Of course," the man smiled at the boy's confusion. "You're part of the crew now, and so you get a present from me, though Harlock said it was a bad idea. I'm not really sure why. He got you a gift too."

For once, the loudmouth was struck speechless. The captain couldn't stand him and was always getting onto him for things. There was no logical explanation for Harlock ever wanting to get him a gift. In a daze, he nearly tripped over the tail of the lights following behind them. "I-I don't have anything to give you," he realized, dread in the pit of his stomach.

"I figured," Tochiro shrugged. "If you did have something, I'd be a little worried about where it came from. Don't worry about it. Your gift to me is helping me with these lights."

It didn't feel like enough, but Nazca nodded. He didn't have any other options right now, and he still needed to figure out something to do for the captain. Maybe he could put something back together that he'd busted up. Then again, he'd probably only break it further.

It was dark on the planet, and it would be dark for the next few months. It had a slow rotation, and the howling winds picked up flurries of snow that ate at Nazca's skin despite his clothes completely covering him. Snowflakes caught against his eyelashes and hair, and despite how used to the cold he was, he still shivered. Hopefully this wouldn't take long, or they'd both get frostbite.

"Alright, take that end you have there and throw it up toward the nose," Tochiro instructed, raising his voice over the wind.

"What!?" Nazca had been hoping for an explanation, but Tochiro assumed he hadn't heard him and repeated the instructions louder, pointing toward the front of the ship. Nazca could only guess he was crazy and dropped the bushel in his arms into the snow, holding onto the end. He didn't have much of a throwing arm, but he reared back and threw so hard the muscles in his arms seemed to snap. "This had better work!" he yelled.

Tochiro laughed as the first light shot toward the end of the ship as though it were magnetized. "Of course it works. I made it. They're programmed to lock against the ship in a specified pattern, and they use just a small amount of energy from it to light up."

The lights flew up from where Nazca had dropped them, tracing the edges of the ship in a bright, glowing pattern. He was so amazed by Tochiro's ingenuity that he nearly forgot that the man had wrapped himself in the second half of the strand. "Oh, hell," he hissed, as he grabbed the string hanging off the engineer. "Get them off!"

Tochiro realized it belatedly too and hurriedly began spinning as Nazca ran around him to remove the lasso. "Guess I should have thought ahead on this one," the man laughed nervously as his footing began to slip. It was already hard to move around through the snow that nearly reached his waist, and the dizziness wasn't helping him.

Nazca bit his tongue to keep from calling him an idiot, but a loud squeak escaped him when the line in his hands was suddenly tugged away by the pull of the ship, sending him flying a few feet before he let go. Tochiro, meanwhile, was able to slip off the last off the lights with a relieved sigh before they began to disappear toward the glowing ship. "You okay, kid?" he called toward the shivering form lying in the snow.

"I'm probably dying," Nazca growled irritably.

"Well I'm glad you're not dead yet, because we still have quite a few more strands to go."

The boy decided this probably was enough of a Christmas present for the crazy engineer.

Inside the ship, Harlock sipped cider, because it was too cold for wine, and he was in the mood to be a little buzzed. There was some sort of odd clicking coming from somewhere that would last for a few minutes before disappearing. Then it would return again every half-hour or so. He guessed it wasn't anything to worry about, because the noise was pretty quiet, and none of the alarms were going off. Maybe Tochiro was making adjustments, but he certainly hoped not. It was too damn cold for that. The only reason they'd stopped here was to hide out for a while. Going out into that storm hadn't been part of the plan.

He finally realized his mistake when Tochiro and Nazca crashed through the doors of his room, covered in slush and soaked through their clothes. They both shivered so much that their teeth chattered, making them stutter every word. "Quit hogging all the cider," Tochiro huffed, snatching the kettle from its hot plate. "The poor kid's about to keel over." That being said, he poured himself a drink before shoving the kettle over toward the frozen boy.

"I _hate_ the cold," Nazca muttered, placing the kettle back and snatching the captain's mug from the table.

"Excuse you," Harlock frowned. Nazca ignored him, crawling into his bed and shivering under the covers with only his arm and his head out so he could sip his drink. "Excuse you," the captain repeated dryly.

"You're excused," his youngest crewman sighed sleepily.

Harlock was forced to give up on him and turned on Tochiro instead. "What were you two even up to?"

"Decorations."

The captain grabbed his friend's ear, pulling upward. "You didn't put those lights on again, did you?"

"Aw – ow ow – be a little more festive."

"You know how obvious those make us on radar, and that's a bit of a problem when we're currently _in the middle of enemy territory_." He shook Tochiro by his ear as he spoke. They'd been over this.

"But we can handle them. If I had to wait until we were out of this area, they only would have been on for a few days."

"I know what I'm going to get the captain for Christmas," Nazca mumbled, his mug set against the bedside table as he burrowed under the blankets. "Gonna take down all those damn lights."

"Can I get my present early?" Harlock requested hopefully.

"Hell no. Not after I spent all that time putting them up."

"Then can you at least go to your own bed?"

"No." He pulled the covers tightly over his head. "Happy X-mas. Enjoy your flamboyant ship."

* * *

**In the next fic, Monono's past makes me really sad a lot.**


	3. Reminders (SSX)

**All the other fics are pretty cute and sweet, and then there's this one. Harlock helps a little. I tried not to make it too similar to Enough for Eight, but some parts overlap a little.**

**This one was for Emerarudasu, who requested: "Monono has a breakdown while cooking Christmas dinner and Dadlock has to hold him and tell him everything's going to be ok."**

* * *

"Tell us about Christmas dinner again, big brother."

"Tell us about how it was warm."

"Tell us about how it felt when you were full."

He took a slow breath in and out, watching what little warmth he had left escaping in a puff of white air. Three shivering forms snuggled as close as they could to him, trying to all warm up against each other. In the beginning, there had been seven of the small voices calling to him. They hadn't needed to ask what it was like to eat. They'd still remembered then.

Now their voices cracked every time they tried to talk. Sometimes they didn't have the strength to. They rarely moved from the bed, because their joints ached too much from the cold, and their fingers and toes were numb to anything. Their cheeks had sunken in, their eyes framed by dark circles. Tadashi was almost afraid to touch them sometimes, because they felt so fragile, like they'd fall apart in his hands.

"There's a ham," he whispered, his voice raw from the frozen outside air. "It's cooked to a beautiful golden brown color on the outside, covered in baked honey and sugar. It's so sweet and chewy, and it's warm in your stomach. Then there's a cake, and Mom makes the best one you've ever seen. It's a rum cake, she says, but she baked all the rum out. And then Dad says how he can fix that, and takes out a bottle. Mom hits him, but she's smiling, and Dad laughs."

"What did they look like?" the smallest one asked, curled up in his lap. Her voice was heavy with sleep, and she could barely keep her eyes open, but she always needed a story to help her fall asleep.

"Mom and Dad?" He chewed his cracked lip for a moment as she hummed a confirmation. They hadn't been gone that long. Did she really not remember? "Dad was really strong, but he didn't have a lot of muscle. His eyes were always shining. Mom was beautiful. Her hair was dark red, and she always painted her nails the same color. She had the prettiest smile. You smile just like her."

"Really?" his little girl smiled softly.

"Yeah." He hugged her close. "And next year, I'll teach you how to make a cake just like her, and we'll have presents, lots of presents. We'll keep the fire going, so it'll be warm all day. We'll have so much firewood, and we'll have so much food that you'll be sick of it. There'll be ham and potatoes and butter and casserole and cake and…"

He must have fallen asleep then. He couldn't remember. He just remembered that he woke up, and she didn't. That was a long time ago. Now he had exactly what he'd promised. The cake was in the oven, and he was slicing the ham. There was so much food, more than they could ever finish in one sitting. The Arcadia had so much food.

Sometimes it made him want to yell and scream at his captain until his voice went out, but he never did. It wasn't Harlock's fault his family hadn't been able to afford a meal. It was good that the crew never had to go hungry. It was good that they could feel full. But sometimes he imagined his brothers and sisters sitting at the dining table with him or running around the halls with Rebi. Harlock probably would never have taken them all in, but the idea of them being healthy, of being alive…

He didn't notice at first when he sliced through the pad of his finger with the knife. Luckily he didn't get any blood on the food and quickly went to wash it off before grabbing a bandage from his drawer full of them. He was particularly adept at cutting his hands up, so he always kept plenty around.

He'd been distracted all day, feeling distant. He'd lose himself in the past no matter how many times he told himself to stop. It was always that same memory of that same day one year before. It was their last Christmas, a day that should have been nothing but happiness and warmth and love. He hadn't been able to even scrape together a damn meal, let alone get them presents. He'd tried to get firewood, at least one thing for them. But even that had been out of his reach. Why would God even make a desert planet so cold anyway?

The oven must have been going off for a few seconds before he noticed it. He'd zoned out, staring at the wall again. He turned and pulled open the oven, the sweetened smell hitting him in the face. It made him sick – rum cake. It was the only recipe he knew well enough, and Rebi had begged for a cake. He couldn't have said no.

Maybe he was a little bit too out of it, but where he hadn't felt the pain of cutting his finger open, he felt the sudden sting of heat as the pan ate into his hands.

Automatically, it fell from his grasp, hitting the oven door before crashing to the floor. He fell back, slamming against the cabinets. Then he sank to the floor and just sat there for a while. Everyone would come in soon, saying how they were starving and he'd taken too long. He just sat on the cool floor with the oven still open and heat pouring down onto him. At least he was warm. At least he had food.

At least they were all dead, so they didn't have to feel pain anymore. At least they were all together, so they weren't alone. And he had Rebi and the captain and Mr. Tochiro and the doctor, so he wasn't alone. But it just wasn't the same. He wanted them back. He wanted his little brothers and sisters and his parents. He wanted to cook them dinner, sit at a table with them.

Despite the pain, he put his hands under his knees and around his thighs to draw his legs in. He just couldn't do it anymore. He couldn't fake his way through this day. It felt like a punishment to be alive, because he hadn't taken care of them like he'd promised, because he'd made lie after lie. He had trouble remembering what they looked like when they were happy because all he could see when he tried to think of them were their faces when they were dead, frozen and pale. He tried so hard to remember what his smallest sister's smile looked like, but he just couldn't do it. Her face could only be stiff and expressionless, hollow from malnourishment.

His sobs filled the room as he hugged his knees and cried against them. His head and hands were aching, and the room felt so hot that he was getting even more nauseous. Why couldn't he have been allowed to just be happy with them? He would have traded anything for that. There was nothing Arcadia could give him that was a match for his family.

The oven screeched on its hinges as it closed. He hadn't heard anyone come in, but they were turning it off for him. Horrified, he tried to slow his whimpers and tears, but there was no point in trying. He probably looked so stupid. On a ship full of pirates, and he couldn't even manage to man up.

The next thing he knew, there were arms around him. Even though they didn't speak, it wasn't hard to tell who it was as they pulled him into their lap and held him to their chest. It only made him cry more to be shown affection or pity or whatever this was. He was supposed to seem strong and capable in front of his captain. No one was allowed to see him breakdown like this, but especially not Harlock.

"I'm sorry," he sobbed against the man's chest. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"You don't have to apologize," the captain murmured. "You can cry if you need to. I've got you." He wanted to tell the boy it was alright, but he just didn't know if that was true. So he held his cook until his sobs slowed enough that he didn't have to take sharp breaths between them.

Tadashi just leaned against his captain, hiccupping. He was simply exhausted. "Do you want to talk?" Harlock asked softly.

"No."

"Alright." The captain ruffled his hair and gave him an affectionate squeeze. "I know I'm not always the easiest person to talk to, but I want you to know that you can always come to me if you need anything."

"It's nothing. I'm fine." He started to pull away, but his captain tugged him closer.

"No, you're not, and you don't have to pretend to be."

Tadashi couldn't bring himself to respond. He wanted to hug his captain, but his hands were stinging horribly. Honestly, everything was starting to feel fine, because Harlock was close and keeping those horrible thoughts away.

"Sometimes," the cook began at length, "I hate cooking for you, because you get to eat, and they didn't. And sometimes I hate eating at all."

"The past can be ugly," Harlock frowned. "The past can eat at you until there's nothing left but those memories swirling through your head. You deserve to be angry, because you deserved so much better. All of you did. Sometimes I think assigning you to the position of cook was the most sadistic thing I could have done, but you're so amazing, and you're so strong.

"Not really. I just try to make it look that way."

"Me too," the captain smiled sadly. "Dinner looks great, you know."

"I hate it," Tadashi hissed.

"I'm sure you do, but we can't let it be wasted, and you know how excited Rebi is for a Christmas feast, Tochiro too."

"They were excited too," the cook sighed. "They got so excited for Christmas, but all we could do was talk about what it might have been like if we'd had the means to be happy."

"But there were times when you were happy and times when you're going to be happy again."

"Not them though, not even at the very end. There was nothing I could do to make them happy."

"If I were dying," Harlock murmured, resting his chin in the boy's hair, "I wouldn't be worried about my own happiness. I would only want for you and everyone else to be happy. I would never want for you to cry over me, because you've cried enough, and I'm just not worth the tears. I think you should remember people for their life and not grieve over their death, because that's not what they would have wanted."

"But Captain," Tadashi's throat went dry, "I think I'm forgetting."

Harlock pulled back to look the boy in the eye. "No you're not," he smiled. "You're just thinking too much about the wrong things. Sometimes the bad memories try to overpower the good ones, but they're still there. And if they weren't, then you'd just have to make new ones."

"Yeah," Tadashi sighed tiredly. "Okay. Alright. I hope you like dinner." He glanced over to the cake, which had survived its fall by landing upright in the pan.

The captain smiled as he stood, the boy still in his arms. "Then let's get your hands wrapped up so we can all have it together."

"Sort of like a family, huh? A weird family."

"Of course. You're going to have a good Christmas, Tadashi. I'll make sure, because you deserve one."

* * *

**In order to make up for this one, the next one is a huge dumb crack fic.**


	4. Drunk Kitchen (SPCH-CWZ)

**This one's just dumb and follows no sort of canon. My friend Sailor-Prince requested "a gingerbread prompt where Daiba, Zero, and Harlock have to make a gingerbread house." There was more to the prompt, but that spoils how ridiculous it gets.**

* * *

We hadn't even started yet, and Zero was already drinking. Granted, Zero tended to drink more often than even me. "Why did I agree to this?" he frowned, staring at the box that had contained the pieces of our soon-to-be gingerbread house. The picture on the front looked pretty nice. The roof was crisscrossed with lines of white icing, and gumdrops were placed neatly around the edges like a small fence. There were even happy little gingerbread people, a boy and girl.

As soon as we'd opened the box, Daiba had eaten the girl one.

"I don't remember agreeing to it at all," I muttered. "Daiba, put the icing down. You can ice it after it's put together, but let someone else set it up."

"I can do this, Captain!" he snapped as he squeezed out an excess of the icing to the inside of the walls. I decided not to argue. We'd already had to go out and buy a pre-made gingerbread kit in the house shape because the gingerbread we'd attempted to bake had been too runny and held no discernible shape.

With his tongue stuck out to one side in concentration, Daiba stood one wall up and stuck another it against the lines of icing he'd drawn. Then he grabbed the other wall and did the same before adding the final one. Somehow all the walls held together when they were a complete box, though the icing was so thick that it was rolling down to pool at the piece of cardboard it sat on. Zero reached across me to ruffle the blond's hair. "You did it, kid."

"Still have to put the roof on. Can I have the other gingerbread man?"

"No." Zero had taken that one for safe keeping. "I'll ice it while you work on the roof, and once everything's done, you can have it."

He took the other icing colors while Daiba continued on with the white. "Shouldn't you wait for the walls to dry together before you put on the roof?" I questioned skeptically.

"I know what I'm doing!"

Zero also seemed to know what he was doing. With no job to do, I went to get a glass so I could pour some of his bourbon for myself.

"God damnit!" Daiba screeched suddenly. The glass fell from my hand and shattered against the counter.

"God damnit," I echoed. I looked back to see the house lying in a small pile of walls and ceiling. "I told you to wait," I reminded him.

He spun heel and glared daggers at me. "Fine," he spat. "If you know so much about it, then you do it!"

The icing was thrown at my face, but I managed to catch it. "I did offer earlier, so don't take it out on me."

"Take it out on him," Zero encouraged my crewman, not really paying attention to the conversation. He was too invested in icing his cookie to even glance up.

Ignoring him, I took my place in front of the demolished house and tried my luck. Daiba really had used too much icing, so it was no wonder the whole thing fell apart when the weight of the roof was placed on it. I cleaned some of the sugar off before redoing the lines and putting the walls together. Daiba had taken to drinking the bourbon that I had been planning on having, and Daiba drinking was never a good sign. Luckily, he was just sipping it as he watched Zero work. I had a feeling he was going to snatch that cookie right from under Zero's hands and eat it at any moment, but the older captain would be faster and smarter.

Once I thought the icing was starting to hold well enough, I placed the sides of the roof on as well, drawing a line between them where they met, so they would hold together in some form. It was all messy and ugly. There were smears of the icing all over the house where there shouldn't have been. "This is awful," I muttered.

Zero bothered a glance. "It looks fine. It's more important that it's edible in the end anyway." He shouldn't have been allowed to say anything, because his gingerbread man was impressively detailed with intricate swirls and layers of icing. Apparently he was actually better than me at something. Too bad it wasn't a useful skill.

Daiba's hand crept along the countertop toward the cookie, and without looking, Zero smacked it away. "So, candy?" Daiba asked hopefully as he moved away from the stricter captain and back toward me.

I shrugged, handing him the piping bag. Well, it couldn't get much worse. "I think we have to put more icing on to get the candy to stick first."

"Yeah I know that, but we should open the candy." He pointed toward the plastic bags filled with the rainbow sugar. None of it looked particularly appetizing to me, but my youngest crewman was a vacuum. He wanted to eat everything, especially sweets. The moment I opened those packages, he would set to devouring them, and the house would end up mostly bare.

"Put icing where you want the candy," I decided. "And I'll put them there."

He puffed out his cheeks before taking a longer sip of bourbon. Zero was already almost finished with the bottle. At least drunk cooking sounded more fun than the usual.

Daiba constantly decided I was putting the wrong candies on each icing dot and took them off to eat them because they "weren't good anymore." Zero reached over and smacked the back of his head, but the little brat just ignored it.

I didn't notice the tipping point when it happened. I noticed a few minutes later, and looking back, it must have happened when Daiba finished his glass and reached out a pawing hand to pour another, only to find the bottle was empty. I hadn't even gotten a shot, greedy bastards.

Zero was staring dazedly down at his gingerbread man. A bottle of wine had appeared in his hand, though I hadn't seen him get up. Daiba reached out to grab it, but Zero just leaned away from him.

Instead, Daiba grabbed the cookie.

"No!" Zero snapped as a triumphant grin spread across Daiba's face. "Give it back, you little pig."

"Oh come on," the pig slurred. "It's for eating anyway."

"You already ate his wife, now give him back."

I blinked, realizing they were both quickly getting wasted, and I wasn't in the mood to deal with them. Zero lunged for what was apparently his new friend, while Daiba jumped back, his elbow smacking into the house. Once again, it completely collapsed into itself.

Absolute horror filled Zero's face as he snatched the cookie away. "Now you've destroyed his house!" he slurred frantically.

"Goddamnit, Daiba," I growled.

He hiccupped, dully realizing what he'd done. Then he broke out into a wobbly grin. "I'm just gonna eat it then."

"No," I decided, my eye twitching. "You've eaten enough." Grabbing one of the walls, I threw it up, took out my gun, and blasted it to pieces. I would at least get some enjoyment out of this.

Now both of them were howling at me to stop, Daiba because he was hungry, and Zero because he was apparently lost in some drunk fantasy where he needed to protect his gingerbread friend.

"Probably doesn't taste good anyway!" I snapped, throwing up to more pieces to destroy. Someone was going to have to clean this up later, but it wasn't going to be me. I managed to hit all but the last piece, when Daiba tackled my gun arm to save it. It landed on the floor anyway. Hopefully he wasn't going to try eating it anyway, though it wouldn't have surprised me.

Furious, the teen snatched the half-empty wine bottle from the table and stormed to the corner of the room, where he plopped down to pout and drink.

I was more disturbed by Zero, who had tears streaming down his face as he mourned the loss of the house and cradled his cookie friend.

"It's just a goddamn gingerbread house," I grumbled.

Tochiro walked in then, looking around the room as though a tornado had swept through it. "What's a gingerbread house?" he questioned in genuine confusion.

I pointed to all the crumbles of cookies and icing around the floor, and he cocked a brow. "Not really surprising when I think about it," he muttered. "Well come here, we made some gingerbread too."

"How? We've been in the kitchen all day," I frowned, worried about the state of my ship.

"I just made a simple machine that cranks 'em out into the shapes I want, and then stick the pieces together. It's just like building a ship really."

In fact, he and Emeraldas had built a small squadron of at least a dozen frosted gingerbread ships. They handed one to Zero that he stuck his gingerbread man on with a wobbly smile. Daiba proceeded to eat his in two seconds. It took everything I had not to throw mine against the wall.

"Next year, let's just buy a Christmas cake," I sighed.

"Oh, I like those too!" Tochiro grinned. "I wonder if I could build something for that. I only blew up two prototypes to make this one." He pointed toward the wall behind me, and I turned to see two ashy carcasses of burnt machines. We both had a lot of cleaning up to do. When I turned back around, Emeraldas was holding a gun to Daiba's head and daring him to try eating the last gingerbread ship, while Zero mourned the loss of his friend.

"You know what," I decided, "let's just not have any sweets next year."

* * *

**In the next fic, Daiba goes ice skating. This can only end badly.**


	5. Cracks (SPCH)

**I used this one for description practice, so it's a little long. Ultimate-Journey requested "Daiba skating on thin ice and falling in, and Harlock having to rescue him and treat him for hypothermia."**

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So maybe I didn't have a huge number of talents, but I figured I could do at least three things pretty well – name constellations, shoot things, and ice skate. It had snowed every winter where I grew up, and the pond not far from our house would completely ice over. When I was small, Mom took me out, lacing up my skates so they fit just snug enough. She'd teach me how to glide or twirl in simple, fluid movements. I never enjoyed or was even any good at any sport requiring much muscle or cardio, but I spent endless hours skating on that pond.

The thing about most ice planets was that they were just ice. It was as if you'd just jumped headlong into the North Pole, and the cold immediately sunk through your skin, stinging and aching against your bones. Cold planets were always worse than dessert planets. There were no nice, frosty-yet-bearable temperatures like Earth. At least, not usually.

I'd seen a pair if ice skates in a secondhand store of the last merchant planet we'd stopped at and had immediately used my allowance to get them. I wasn't entirely sure why they were there, considering how hot the planet was, and they were slightly big on my feet and much heavier than any of the skates I was used to, but I certainly didn't mind. It was just nice to have a pair again. I didn't even know what had happened to all my things back at home, and I didn't have many possessions aboard the Arcadia.

So it seemed like a miracle when we made land on that beautiful icy ball of a planet. From far out in space, it reminded me of a snow globe, but closer to the ground, it showed itself to be a frosted-over version of Earth, complete with frozen lakes. It was certainly colder than I was used to back home, but on the side facing the sun, my thermal suit and coat would keep me cozy enough. I hugged my new skates as I stared out my window. Finally I would get to skate gain. I didn't even care why we were stopping. I just wanted to skate for a bit.

The captain seemed less enthusiastic about the stop. Apparently we needed to restock our water supplies, and he hadn't been planning on making any stops in this area. It took me a while to even manage to get close enough to talk to him, as he strode through the halls without stopping for even a second, calling out lazy orders in order to have a pump drill through one of the lake surfaces to get to the unfrozen water below.

When I finally managed to get his attention long enough for him to hear me, he still didn't seem to comprehend my question. "Just be back before we head out," he reminded me.

I was happy enough with that as a confirmation, and I rushed out before he could change his mind for some reason. Usually he didn't like for me to go out on my own on unfamiliar planets, since I tended to get myself in trouble. But this time I knew what I was doing. The ice was thick, and the snow was nice and powdery. It was much too cold for any plants to try hanging around. This was my sort of element.

I picked out a small lake not too far from the ship, opposite the lake they were stealing water from. After strapping on the heavy skates, I spent some time getting myself used to them, gliding around the untouched ice. I was actually more accustomed to the rougher ice of the outdoors than any indoor rinks, smoothed down by machines. This way was better. It reminded me of home, my toes numbing so much they ached, my nose and cheeks chapping from the icy wind. I didn't mind the cold, because it was just nice to have fun for once.

I traced patterns along the ice, circles and waves. Just to go around and around put me in a comfortable, dream-like state. I just hoped no one would see me and make fun of me for it.

After about fifteen minutes, a sharp crack reached my ears, cutting through the silent landscape. It must have been from the water supply pump, and I was glad I'd been smart enough not to go on that lake. The ice was beginning to split and shift from the strain. Each snap was like a small firecracker, spreading out from the pump, all across the lake. I watched out of simple curiosity at first. Then the ship gave a startling groan, and one of the landing gears smashed through the surface of the planet.

For a moment, I didn't know how to react. I quickly realized the snow separating the lakes was all a lie. This entire area was one big sheet of ice, and those cracks were speeding toward me.

There was little chance of making it to the ship, but I needed to make myself light enough to not fall through and prepare for an event in which I did. Mom had taught me this, so I could recall at least a few things that would be a death sentence should I go underwater. Throwing off my coat, I moved down to one knee and yanked myself free of the tight knots I'd put into the laces of the skates. I managed to get one off and was starting on the second when another crack sounded. It was right in front of me. Then behind.

I awkwardly got down on all fours, trying to spread out my weight to keep from being too heavy. I really wasn't all that heavy to begin with, but it didn't take much with all the ice already damaged. A quick glance up showed the ship to now be pulling itself from the water, causing another ripple to go through the ice. As soon as the Arcadia pulled itself free, my little floating island wobbled. Everything felt so still and calm for an instant. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes just before I went belly-up.

Cold. God it was so cold. It hit me like a wall. The air above had been nothing compared to this. My entire body went stiff against it in shock. It sank through every layer and froze every inch of me. Finally, I remembered the cold wasn't my main problem. I needed to breathe.

Breaking through the shock, I forced my arms to claw and my legs to kick. With one skate still on my left foot, a hard weight dragged it down. Still, I managed to fight enough to reach the top.

A massive wall of ice blocked my way to the surface. I felt around it, trying to find some sign of all the cracks I'd seen before. My lungs began to fight me, desperate for me to open my mouth and breathe in despite my surroundings. The heaviness in my foot was starting to spread throughout my body.

Just as my hand burst through into open air, my lungs burst as well. Somehow, I dragged myself to the surface, hacking up mouthfuls of frosty water. The frigid air greeted me by freezing the water plastered to my skin. I clawed for an ice floe, starting to feel sluggish and completely exhausted. Each piece of ice I tried to grab dipped under my weight and sunk. My skate felt like an iron boot, dragging me down. I was so heavy.

"Would you calm down and listen?" someone shouted from above me. I looked up, fighting to keep my head above water. There was the captain, sitting on top of the outside of the smaller fighter craft I used as my own. It was suspended in the air above me, and I was unsure how long it had been there.

The captain lowered something down my way while yelling an order, but I could barely understand much of anything at this point. I simply reached up and grabbed the object – a rope – and twirled it around my arm a few times. He dragged me out as though my weight was nothing and placed me beside him in the cramped interior of the craft as he climbed in. I think it was heated inside, and I imagined he was probably much warmer than me too, but I couldn't feel anything other than the cold and the pain all over.

"Next time you're going to go out ice skating, make sure you let someone know," I heard him growl.

"I did tell you," I reminded him. He threw me a quick glance, his brow furrowed in confusion. He probably didn't remember.

I had no idea what Daiba was saying. It was impossible to tell around the chattering of his teeth. His entire body was shivering so much that he probably could have powered a small engine. Clear droplets of ice had attached themselves to his eyelashes, and his lips were a cool blue, while his face was impossibly pale. He actually seemed awake and interested in his surroundings, but no matter how much I spoke to him, he only heard every now and then.

I recalled he'd asked me something about going outside a short time before the ship had nearly taken a bath. Honestly, I hadn't been paying much attention to him at the time. Maybe he had said something about skating, but I hadn't realized that was what he'd been doing until I'd fished him out with one skate still attached to his foot.

By the time I got him back to the ship, he'd given up on speaking. His movements were so sluggish and weak that we had to put him on a stretcher instead of allowing him to try walking. It was then that I noticed the gash cutting diagonally across his foot. He must have cut it with the blade of the ice skate while trying to swim, but he certainly wasn't bothered by it. It wasn't bleeding much either, likely due to restricted blood flow.

Once we brought him into the med bay, we removed his soaked clothes while the doctor lectured him. He didn't appear to be listening to anything anymore. At this point he was just fighting off sleep. His fingers and toes were also a worrying blue. He'd really done a good job nearly getting himself killed again.

We weren't properly equipped to handle the moderate hypothermia Zero explained that we were now dealing with, so Daiba was given a home remedy instead. We covered him in hot water bottles and wrapped him in blankets, while he finally gave into sleep.

I wasn't sure why I was stuck with the job of sitting with him and changing out the water bottles when they cooled off. It really wasn't my job, but they said it was "because it's Daiba." Honestly, I didn't mind. At least this way I didn't have to pretend not to worry about his condition.

Of course, once we finally had heated him up, his temperature immediately spiked into a fever. When he woke for the first time, his eyes were glassy, and a wobbly smile crossed his face as he caught sight of me glaring at him. "Hey, Captain," he whispered hoarsely.

"How are you feeling?" I huffed, giving up on the stern expression.

"Cold."

His internal body temperature was still somewhat low, and the fever wasn't helping matters. "Well next time, just don't go skating," I advised.

"I like skating," he mumbled.

"Then don't go skating alone. You wouldn't have been in such a bad condition if we had known your position."

He blinked up at me as a sudden shiver ran down him, shaking him beneath the blankets. I got him another hot water bottle, placing it against his neck, and he leaned against it with a murmur of thanks. "You should go skating with me then. It's really fun."

I tried to imagine myself managing to wear those bladed shoes without falling on my face or looking like a complete idiot. "Maybe Kei," I suggested.

He giggled softly, probably imagining me skating too. "You should skate with the cape. That would be real funny. Woosh."

"Get some more sleep, Daiba."

"Yeah, okay," he smiled. "Thanks for saving me, Captain."

I nodded. I was getting fairly used to it after all. "Anytime."

* * *

**In the next fic, Harlock and Kei face a Christmas conundrum.**


	6. Stocking Stuffers (SPCH)

**A very specific part of this one involving a certain plant was requested by my friend Blusey. The rest of the story just appeared. It's really dorky and an attempt at fluff, and I hope you all have a lovely Christmas and a nice New Year.**

* * *

Harlock's Christmas morning started out with a sudden lack of shoes.

He guessed that sometime during the night all of his shoes had gained sentience and walked out, because every single pair had disappeared. Usually the men didn't play jokes, and usually no one could sneak into his room without him noticing, so it all came as quite the surprise. Mostly he was missing his different pairs of boots, but he also had a couple of dress shoes for nicer events that were gone. He wasn't particularly happy about it.

After getting dressed, he stalked out into the hall in his socks, intent on finding the cause of this and having everything put back where it needed to be. He was greeted by an irritable Kei in bare feet.

"The floors are cold," she hissed. "Captain, where are my shoes!?"

"I was going to ask you that," he frowned.

Christmases aboard the Arcadia were mostly uneventful. They usually threw a party in the name of getting drunk and eating until they felt sick, but no one usually bothered with gifts. It was considered too much work and more fun to buy presents for only Mayu instead. Harlock was fine with that. Buying presents for the entire crew was a hassle. Hell, buying for Mayu was hard enough on its own. Christmas just wasn't really a big event for them overall.

So the shoe thing left him a bit confused. Maybe someone had gotten too excited about the party and had started drinking early. Then they'd decided to steal all the shoes…? Alright, he had no clue.

"Well you're the first person I've seen other than me who's missing them," Kei explained, her arms folded across her chest. "It seems like some sort of joke, but it's a pretty stupid one. No one I've asked knows anything about it, or they're just lying. Mr. Bird wouldn't have had a reason to take them, right?"

"Doubtful," Harlock frowned. "Have you tried the bridge?"

"Not yet. Hadn't gotten that far."

"Then I'll try there." Considering that was where they both spent most of their time, it made sense that their belongings might end up there if the thief felt like returning them. Kei decided to follow him, continuing to sigh about how freezing the metal floor was against her bare feet.

On the way, they received a few comments and snickers due to their lack of footwear, and Harlock began to grow more irritated about the matter. Honestly, what sort of reasoning could be behind this? This was certainly not his ideal way to spend Christmas.

As soon as the door to the bridge slid open, a small form smacked into his chest. He had to grab Daiba to keep him from falling back, as the bleary-eyed teen blinked in confusion and swayed on his feet. He looked half-asleep, which wasn't surprising. It was the first time Harlock had seen him up before the crack of noon in weeks, and he smelled oddly like permanent marker…

"Morning," the captain greeted curiously.

"Mornin'," Daiba mumbled, rubbing at his eyes to keep himself awake. "Merry Christmas, Captain."

"Hm, Merry…Christmas…" His eye locked on the bushel of white flowers above him, tied to the doorframe with a red ribbon. Kei giggled behind him as Daiba followed his gaze upward and gave a startled squeak.

"I-I have t-to go," the teen decided, pushing past him.

"You're no fun," Kei laughed as he dashed away.

Harlock wasn't all that surprised to realize it was likely her doing and yanked the mistletoe down. "Kei, don't do that," he sighed.

"You're no fun either. It's cute when he blushes, and you know it." She slipped around him, curious about the numerous gifts sitting around her chair. They were all wrapped in the same paper in a horribly messy fashion. Glancing back, she saw Harlock's chair in the same state. "Oh, I wonder if it's just what I was asking for," she muttered sarcastically.

Tearing neatly through the paper, she did find a pair of her shoes, but she nearly didn't recognize them at first. They looked completely new. All the smudges and cracks had been gone over and beautifully polished. Each package was the same, her worn-out shoes with a fresh coat of paint. She looked over them in amazement. It had been so long since she'd last gotten a gift for Christmas, and she wasn't sure how to react. It must have taken hours to fix them all up so nicely.

She slowly turned to find Harlock in the same state. All the shoes he'd beaten nearly to death were now in pristine condition. He slowly slipped his favorite pair on and simply admired them for a moment.

"It wasn't…?" Kei began skeptically.

"Couldn't have been," Harlock agreed, though they both realized it must have been.

Without a word, they both headed back to the halls, stopping only to ask where Daiba had run off to. Not too surprisingly, they ended up in the kitchen, where they found the Arcadia's youngest crewman napping at one of the tables.

"You did tell him we don't give gifts, right?" the captain questioned.

Kei nodded. "Maybe he's actually…thoughtful."

The two carefully shook him awake, but he jolted up in terror, drool running from the corner of his mouth. "I don' wanna kiss you, Captain," he slurred, still blinking himself awake.

"That's fine," Harlock smiled.

"Well alright," Kei sighed. "Thank you for the present, Daiba."

"We certainly appreciate it," the captain added.

As Daiba came back to his senses, a bright blush warmed his cheeks. He stared down the tabletop, fidgeting under their thanks. "W-wasn't me," he mumbled.

"Was it the other person that smells like shoe polish?" Harlock questioned, smirking.

"Probably," Daiba huffed. "You're…not going to kiss me, right?"

"No."

"Guess I'll wait til everyone's drunk to put it back up then," Kei shrugged before throwing a quick hug around her junior. "Thanks again," she cooed.

Harlock watched her leave, suddenly worrying about how the party would play out. When the door closed behind her, he looked back to his youngest crewman. "I'm not going to hug you either."

Daiba nodded. "Yeah, okay, I can live with that."


End file.
